We all recognize the Circle of Yarn…more ideas than you will ever accomplish…..more new starts that end up as Works in Progress (WIPs), brave attempts to use ONLY the stash, good ideas, bad ideas, and occasionally, the Finished Object. I’m currently in the process of circling back to the WIP basket(s) to pick up and (hopefully) move the next project forward. Since it’s only a few weeks before I visit Scotland and spend some quality time with expert Gansey and Garloch knitters, I’m racing to have a bit more to show for my efforts. I’m hoping to have the Gansey at the arm gussets (wildly optimistic) and another swatch or two for my version of the Garloch stocking.
My first swatch for the stocking is based on the idea of the stag’s head (caberfeidh) symbol of the MacKenzie family.
While the traditional Gairloch stockings (kilt hose) were designed for men, my idea is to use a design that is pan-Scot, the thistle. Depending on the colors used, this could be gender neutral. The challenge, of course, is to fit the calf shaping within the design in the least obtrusive way. I also have questions about the decreases. The pattern I have from the Gairloch Museum uses central double decreases, where I had assumed paired decreases around a single “seam” stitch. I’m really looking forward to seeing originals next month to note if there are variations.
My first attempt was actually pretty hilarious. The swatch was made to determine the number of stitches (maximum) for the broadest part of the calf, with the thought that there would be 3 blocks of thistles. I started on a size 0 (2.0mm), assuming I’d need a minimum of the 99 stitches to span the calf. Well, that didn’t work out very well (unless your calf measurement is no more than about 8″ (@20cm) in diameter. I started out with two yarns from the Border Mill, and found the thistle color looked too brown. I substituted a Urudale yarn called Ling Meal, an absolutely beautiful shade of red/purple. If this project moves forward, I hope to use it for the actual socks.
Even though I mis-read the chart and got off on a few rows, the stitching itself looks pretty nice. Looking back at the Museum’s pattern, I note that their stocking was knit on US 3 (3.25mm). I’ve charted several variations of the thistle, so I realize now that I can not only use a larger needle, but also consider one of the larger patterns. More swatching!
The chart on the right is the one I swatched (above), but I’m leaning more toward the one on the left for the next go round.
I was worried that the second swatch would be too big on size 3 (3.25mm) needles, so chose to work them on 2s (2.75mm) instead. Still too small to fit the calf, but I really liked the low contrast between the dark natural color and mustard (these are Urudale yarns).
I’m now working on an additional swatch on 3s, and I’m not all that thrilled about the look of the fabric at this size stitch. I haven’t measured yet, but I’m going to do another couple of calculations on the chart and possibly move to 4 repeats of the motif. I have to be able to center the motif in the front and still have a good placement for the calf shaping on the back side. It’s going to take some clever placement to avoid looking blocky and too obvious.
The swatch on 0 needles is by far the most beautiful in terms of stitch definition, and while I could adjust the pattern for it, I’m really sure it would drive me crazy in the end. Size 3 needles are not an option….after blocking the design still looked thin and stretched out. So I’ll stick to the size 2 (2.75mm) and work with the pattern some more to reach the right circumference. I also really like how the Urudale Yarn works up. It may not be the softest, but the marled shades give a more subtle contrast that I prefer. That isn’t typical for Gairloch patterns, but it works for my contemporary interpretation.
Meanwhile…
I finished my mosaic stitch shawl in time for the Scottish Wool Producers Showcase in Perth, but hadn’t had an opportunity to update my Ravelry page or post it here. It really turned out well, and after I found the rhythm of the knit, was fast and fun. It’s a technique I’d absolutely use again, and although perhaps not a good one to mix with a glass of wine, didn’t take too much focused attention.
I’ve also circled back to work on the shawl Olive Pink that I’m knitting with the Alpaca/rose silk yarn from the Border Mill. I started it right after I’d been to Perth two years ago, but wasn’t happy with how the colors were unfolding. I changed their order and added an additional shade to give it a bit more “energy.” It’s an easy knit, and moves along quickly. If I can manage it, I should be bringing it to the Orkneys as a hedge against chilly weather.
The only other new start is swatching for a Scots Blue Bonnet. You can clearly see the stitches in the well-worn brown tam below (from the Scottish National Museum), but when new it likely would have sported a napped surface that obscured the stitches to a degree. This swatch will require more fulling (felting) than I’ve achieved here.
Some of the tams are likely workshop (professional) production, like the one on the left (below). This style with the diced (checkerboard) brim and large toorie (pompom) are often made with a ribbon running through the band that can be tightened or loosened to better fit the head. The brown version in the center is more likely home knitted, in brown local wool and with an oversized body. I saw both types in the Scottish National Museum, and most of the rougher looking examples in brown were excessively worn and felted into very stiff fabric.
My goal is to produce something more like the center example above, but worked in blue yarn with a plain red band. I’m using this example from the Scottish National Museum as a model. To aid in the fulling, and to get a yarn similar to the primitive breeds of the Highlands, I’ve chosen to test the pattern using Icelandic wool (Icelandic sheep are close relatives of those brought to the islands of Scotland by Vikings in the 9th century). The fulling of the swatch didn’t go as well as I had hoped, and I think I need to be a bit more aggressive, as the swatch is a bit limp. I’m aiming for something that will have a bit of drape, but that will definitely hold its shape.
I also have to make a decision about the diameter of the body. In artwork, photographs, and surviving examples, this varies widely. When I came across the example in the photo below (left), I was rather surprised by the size, but fashion did change with the times. And, when this style fell out of fashion in other regions of Scotland, it persisted much longer in the Highlands where it was considered more of a standard of Highland dress.
The version from the popular TV series Outlander, as worn by Graham McTavish, is like none I’ve seen. It looks like it may have been sewn from thin, felted wool fabric, but that’s unclear, and seems an unlikely way to make the tam. It’s also really drapey, and doesn’t really feel authentic….but I could be wrong!
Finally…
I guess I have to give up and admit it’s spring. Once the tulips bloom, it’s highly unlikely we’ll see snow again. I particularly like the pointed petals of the Turkish-style blooms from my garden. Tulip time in Istanbul is stunning, with parks and gardens brimming with multi-colored blooms.
The tulip was revered in Ottoman Turkey, turning up not only in the gardens, but in all forms of artwork including paintings, textiles, and ceramic tiles. While they are most obvious during the Tulip Festival month of April in parks and other public spaces, you’ll see them year-round in the tiles of mosques, baths, and many other buildings. It was an enormous scandal when the Dutch spirited bulbs out of Turkey (it was illegal to remove them from the country), and spurred on a collecting mania.
“The wealthy began to collect some of the rarer varieties of bulbs as luxury goods, leading to increase in demand and surge in prices of bulbs. People started trading tulip bulbs for anything with a store of value, including homes and property….At the peak of tulip mania, in February 1637, some single tulip bulbs sold for more than 10 times the annual income of a skilled artisan….After February of 1637, tulip traders could no longer find new buyers willing to pay increasingly inflated prices for their bulbs. As this realisation set in, the demand for tulips collapsed, and prices plummeted….In the end, thousands of people, both noblemen and laymen, lost much of their fortune due to the severe drop in prices of bulbs.” From: Case Study: Tulip Mania by Dhairia Vora.
So this week, take time to enjoy the flowers, keep calm, and craft on!